


The Knight and the Rose

by Perianwyri



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perianwyri/pseuds/Perianwyri
Summary: A chance encounter at an inn has lasting consequences for both the knight and the dancer.
Relationships: Primrose Azelhart & Olberic Eisenberg
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	The Knight and the Rose

Fate brought them together in a quaint sea-side inn at the edge of the world, the knight and the dancer. The dancer wasn’t dancing, and the knight wasn’t knight-ing - they both just happened to be travelers who happened to be at the same place at the same time. But they found themselves sharing a spot at the bar, where one drink was all it took for the two of them to turn to idle chatter - at least from Primrose’s angle.

When she’d first arrived at the bar, she’d seen him and sized him up: he was an older man, his dark hair peppered with white, bulky in the way that a man who fought for a living would be, with a square, rough face. His heavy armor was scuffed from the road and faded, with flecks of rust, and she didn't recognize the hawk and arrow crest on it. Something tall and narrow and wrapped in cloth sat next to him at the bar, like another patron; his sword, maybe?

A knight then, Primrose figured. She liked knights; they tended to be kind, even with folks like her. With practiced casualness she’d slid in beside him and started a one-sided conversation, introducing herself while she idly chatted. Her aim had been to maybe line her pocket with his, but his mystery distracted her: who was he, traveling without his master and with his arms in such moldy shape? That curiosity fueled her conversation, making her forget her original aim of getting a warm meal and bed tonight (her own coffers empty due to expenses on the road). 

***

When the woman had first sat down next to him, Olberic had ignored her as just another traveler on the road. He’d seen plenty of those, and really wasn’t interested in her conversation; he preferred his own company to the company of others.

But when she had introduced herself as Primrose, he’d turned to be polite, and caught sight of her deep green eyes. When he did, things - his world - changed. He noticed her beauty: lithe and slim, with brown hair that skirted just above those gorgeous green eyes and down to the small of her back. She looked worn from the road, her costume light cotton pants and shirt, her skin slightly chestnut brown. Her voice was light and humorous, and the way she smiled and cajoled the bartender said that she was used to making people think they were doing favors for her when she asked.

Well pleasant to talk to, Olberic couldn’t imagine why such a rare creature would want to talk to him. Even more, what did he even say back to her? He’d spent so much of his youth training in arms, never having time for women, and now at his age, it was the rare one that would take a second look at him. But this woman was awakening feelings long though unstirred him.

Who was she? 

Did she find him handsome? He sighed and pulled another gulp from his tall mug. Probably not. He wasn’t some handsome prince from a book; he’d lived a hard life, and he knew physically he reflected it, with a broken nose and several scars to speak to years of work as a knight. Besides, he had his quest to think of: finding the ruinous traitor to his former throne..A wayside fling was not high on his to do list. While the conversation was pleasant, he would have to finish his drink, bid goodbye, and go to bed. Simple as that. Leave romance to the bards.

“So originally I’m from Sunburst, but I’ve been travelling for awhile,” she said. Olberic was nodding along with her, but really he was studying her face, committing it to memory. He wasn’t being rude; he just knew that this was the one night he’d get an opportunity to do so. She’d leave for her room, he for his, and they’d never see each other again. The thought broke his heart, but that was what Fate had in store with him.

There was commotion at the front of the house as the front door slammed open. Three men had sauntered in, drawing attention to themselves by yelling for service and some rooms. Olberic took a look back at them and figured by their leather and light arms that they were mercenaries - roamers that went looking for trouble and often started it with innocent folks like the ones running this inn. His mouth set in a line. Not his business.

They sat down at a table and started to bang and call for service. A young, blonde serving girl of no more than seventeen arrived at their table to take orders, but came under assault almost immediately. Rudely they tried to grab at her body and shout orders at her, but she tried to put on a brave face:

“Sirs, our ale on tap today is quite fine -”

“No, I can’t do that -”

“Yes, thank you, but -”

But they were a force to be reckoned with and wouldn’t be redirected, aware that they had someone young and inexperienced in their midst and could take advantage of her.

It disgusted Olberic enough to want to step in and do something, but Primrose moved first, her hand leaving her wine glass for the first time since she’d started up the conversation with him. She approached the serving girl and took up her tray of drinks; she painted on a winning, charming smile and said, “Gentlemen. What can I get you?”

They leered, but she handled them with professional grace and courtesy, working the table like a professional. She dodged their grabby hands and stayed just out of range enough as she serviced them their meals. All of this and with an (almost) honest smile on her face.

When they were finished, she smiled even larger when she asked them to leave.

Things got worse. One of them grabbed her hand, pressed it onto the table, and squeezed it,

“Why don’t we go upstairs, sweetheart?” 

Her eyes narrowed and the man suddenly found a dagger between his fingers. He froze and his face flushed. His friends shot to their feet and went for the swords at their sides, yelling curses and unkind things at her.

That was enough for Olberic. He stood and wiped his chin from the combination of food and drink on it. Everyone’s eyes turned to him; they hadn’t expected the mountain of a man to be moved by the scene, much less come to the woman’s defense. When he got near the foursome, the scene was so quiet the sound of the innkeep wiping a glass. 

“Let go of the lady,” he said, a rumble of thunder in the valley.

The adventurer had moved his eyes from her to him, and they hardened, as though sizing up the challenge. He loosened his grip on her hand, finger by finger, as his other hand tightened tighter and tighter around the hilt of his sword.

“Don’t do it, son,” Olberic said with a tired sigh, but the man’s eyes hardened and started to draw his blade. Olberic’s hand strayed toward the string on the cloth wrapped sword he’d brought with him.

Primrose again showed alacrity, her hand snatching the adventurer’s and digging her nails into his palm. “Listen to him you idiot,” she hissed, “don’t you see the crest on his armor? The sword? He’s a knight! You draw on him, and he’s obligated to cut you down!”

Olberic was impressed by her assessment of his character, just by his looks. Maybe they were a little exaggerated, but it was true enough. Either way, he gave the man a sour look to prove her point.

There was a moment’s pause before the mercenary relented. He let go of Primrose’s hand and eased up on his sword.. He looked back at his two friends, who did the same. Her congenial smile returned to her face: “I would suggest you make for your rooms.”

They paused long enough to debate it, then exited like they’d been told. Primrose and Olberic watched them go, relaxing only when they heard a door shut. The patrons of the inn then erupted in applause.

The innkeeper came over and thanked them for defusing the situation. Olberic waved it off; the woman laughed and played the conversation as much as she’d played any other conversation to that moment, with lots of small laughs and compliments. Pleasantries exchanged, the two tired souls were about to return to their existence when the dancer changed the whim of fate:

“So I never got your name, so I’ll say mine again - Primrose - and you?”

He still wasn’t used to using his given name. He’d used an alias while living in Mountainside, so to say “Olberic,” sounded so foreign and awkward all of a sudden. 

She placed a gentle hand upon his chest and the feeling thrilled him. “Olberic, thank you so much for your assistance. I could have handled them, but your words and support were surprisingly appropriate.” (And most welcome, she thought to herself)

“Uh...you’re welcome,” Olberic said.

She slipped her hand into his - it was soft and velvety, and he could feel his cheeks redden at the touch. “Let me buy you a drink. A small favor for the one you’ve done for me,” she said, brooking no opposition to what she said.

***

Their single drink seemed to last for hours. Olberic barely noticed, so drawn in by the beauty of both the speech and the speaker. By her voice he noted a touch of nobility; the words she chose, the smoothness of her conversation. She’d been educated, and taught etiquette, given how she’d treated the thugs earlier. So why was she wandering the world, he wondered?

“I’m from Sunburst, you?” she asked at one point.

“Well, you wouldn’t know the town I’m from,” Olberic had started. She smiled and asked him to try. “A tiny little village called Mountainside,” he obliged her.

Primrose found him an amusing and charming man. Handsome too. He tried to protect himself with a barrier of aloofness, but her instincts said that he was a kind soul too, or he would never have stepped up for her with those thugs..

She could tell he enjoyed her attention but was trying to not show it, probably because he wasn’t used to her kind of attention. But to be honest, she enjoyed giving it to him; he attracted her with his chivalry, and he could tell that despite what she looked like, he respected her. Part of her couldn’t help but slip in those little hints of attractiveness that she had too.

Primrose laughed. “I’ve been through Westral. It was full of, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Rats,” Olberic noted. He took a sip of drink and laughed along with her.

Her hand never seemed to leave his. It felt appropriate there. She was surprised how much she liked how it was rough and worn with the scars of battle, though she was glad he’d shown not to be the sort to draw a weapon carelessly. It showed care, concern, and responsibility..

Was she falling for him? Primrose sighed. Probably. But she didn’t have the best of luck with men. Convince them to part with things like money or information, yes, but carry on a relationship? That was far and away out of her experience. Most just wanted things from her. She was cold, and she respected that.

But she desired more than that from him. Would he give it to her? Her chin rested upon the palm of her hand, the candlelight on the bar flickering shadows on them both. Olberic was gladly talking away about his knightly order, and she was gladly listening. She was no longer a slave, and she could take what she wanted. That was what freedom was.

Her hand squeezed his. He looked up at her, startled from his topic. She smiled and stood; he stood as well, following her lead, though curiously. She paid the innkeeper for their meal and drinks.

"Thank you, but," he started.

Primrose shushed him and led him into the shadows of the hallway, towards her room, where she stopped and leaned against the door. "I'd really like to thank you for your help," she said carefully, knowing that the wrong move could frighten him off, "but I'd also like to get to know you better."

Despite the dark, she could see his face flush. She internally giggled. It was charming. "Why not join me for a night cap, hm?"

He stammered. He tried to find a way to politely decline. But when nothing came, he relented. "Yes. That would be nice."

She smiled and held open the door for him. He entered gingerly and waited til she joined him. “One moment,” she said, and went to dig into her things. She always carried a provision of different things for different reasons, and one of them was - aha. Primrose beheld a decanter of amber liquid in her hand, which she held up for Olberic to investigate. In her other hand she held two glasses, and she smiled at him.

“Do you always come prepared?” he asked slyly as they joined each other at the small table in the room.

Primrose shrugged and started to pour them both a tiny portion of the drink. “A performer should be ready at a moment’s notice to entertain.”

Olberic chuckled. “Finally, you tell me what you do. An entertainer, huh?”

Primrose nodded, pouring them each a small portion of drink. “A dancer. I make a decent living singing as well.”

“I see. I’d like to hear you entertain, then,” he said. She decided that she liked that about him: he was understated, but not cold. Getting him to laugh was a point in her favor as well. “Thank you for joining me. The road can be quite lonely.”

He sighed. “I know. My quest has made me weary of it. I wish I could just return to my home and the quiet solitude that it once knew.”

She smiled. “I don’t really have a home. I’ve wandered for so long...and before that, my entertaining was something that you might not find attractive -”

“No, I,” he said, but stopped himself short. 

Primrose sighed. She didn’t want to wreck this one, to wreck her heart and make it cold and lonely again. He was so fine, so gentlemanly...she took his hand and stood again, wordlessly. He followed, unsure of where this was leading, until they were standing by the bed, and her hand was placed over his heart.

Something compelled him to kiss her. She returned the gesture, and her lips felt smooth and silky against his own. They embraced, and her hand went to stroke the skin under his shirt. He shivered, and placed his hand on her back; she naturally curved inward towards him, pressing herself against his chest.

Primrose gave herself entirely to him, though his hands were rough and clumsy, he was still tender and loving the way that she hadn’t been used to in the days when she’d been an entertainer for hire.

They fell into bed together, half-dressed, his hands embracing the curves of her bottom as she layered his chest with kisses. The roughness of his checkered beard scratched at her, and made her giggle; he stopped for a moment, blushing. “No, please,” she said quietly, a murmur at best. He gave a smile and continued, working her up and down with his ministrations. She bit her lip and scratched his head, giving him encouragement through the movement.

Finally he stopped and looked at her. More shy than she’d expected herself to be, she nodded and embraced him as they joined, and he gave her of himself. The experience was magical, and she felt uplifted by the feeling of this strong man taking her. Primrose allowed herself to fall deeply in love with him there and then, and maybe that was a mistake, but at that moment she didn’t care.

***

How long later was it that they woke up, still in each other’s arms? Primrose woke first, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her own bare skin. She was nuzzled against his side, her face on his chest, her arm stretched across it and touching a pillow across the way. A deep feeling of happiness flowed through her, surprising even her; she’d done this act a hundred times, and this was the one that felt the most honest.

Her eyes were closed. She heard him stir. She heard him take a big breath of air before asking, “are you asleep?”

Primrose shook her head drowsily. She didn’t want the moment to end.

“Then sleep,” she heard him say, and he wrapped his cumbersome arms around her, wrapping her in the protection that was his shield of honor. She was about to fall back into sleep when there was a crash at their door.

Olberic sat up, dislodging her. She grabbed up the sheets to cover her dignity. Standing at the threshold of her room were the three thugs, looking sloppy and drunk. “Ah ha ha,” the leader - the one Primrose had threatened earlier that afternoon, said, “look at what we find. The knight and the lady, sleeping with one another. Not very honorable, sir.”

Primrose looked up at Olberic, whose face had gone cold and stern. He sat like an L in the bed, back ramrod straight and tight.

“I thought we’d just have fun with the lady, but if we gotta mess you up first - hey, I think we’re okay with that.”

Olberic threw off the sheets and stood up. The three adventurers bristled. One held a dagger out - the other two, swords. It didn’t seem as though that bothered him in the slightest, Primrose noted. She also noted the network of scars that passion had ignored at the time on his body, telling the tale of exactly how hardscrabble her knight was.

He approached the three and squared off with them. They shivered with a tension that filled the room, but didn’t seem to bother Olberic.

He moved like a flash - knocking aside the dagger and punching the man in the face for the first, spinning and taking out the second with a backhand and the third with a punch to the gut. It was over so fast Prim wasn’t sure she’d even blinked; the three fell to the floor, groaning. He stood over the three like an ominous mountain.

“You’re lucky it’s my honor that keeps you alive,” he said, looking the three over. They moaned and muttered, bodies twitching on the ground. “Get out.”

The three picked themselves up as he’d ordered and, still muttering, left the room. The innkeeper stood in the twilight of the hallway, and as soon as he saw the troublemakers coming, pushed them towards the door.

Olberic watched the men leave from the sill of the door. As the innkeeper escorted them out, he returned to Primrose in bed and sat down, taking a sigh along with him. 

“Are you all right?” she asked, placing her hand in his.

He turned and smiled at her. “Yeah. Go back to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“No,” she said, as she shook her head, “I want you to join me. Just relax. Fall asleep. I promise you you don’t need to protect me.” And that was when he saw a glimmer of steel hidden beneath her fingers - another steel dagger. She smiled at him predatorily. “I’m a girl who can take care of herself.”

Olberic laughed. He lay down beside her and let her warmth flow back against him.

***

“Hi,” said a cool, feminine voice in his ear the next morning.

Olberic startled, not expecting it, half expecting that the last night had been a dream, a fever dream because of the drink he’d had. He didn’t expect to see her laying next to him, naked, smiling, her pure green eyes twinkling at him.

“Morning,” he said, and felt a sudden swimming sensation in his heart. She’d stayed. He couldn’t be more happy that she was there. He reached out and stroked the side of her face, and her eyes closed and rubbed against it. “I thought you’d be gone by this morning. Either a dream, or my purpose served.”

Primrose slipped her hand in his again and smiled. “No. I wanted to stay. You’re special, do you know that? I don’t know what it is, but something said to stay.”

He accepted what she said without questions. It would have ached his heart to have lost her - to love and lose in the same span of hours - but he hadn’t expected much from the encounter. She was a free spirit, he could tell that, and like that, she could have been gone. But she’d stayed, and his heart swam with feelings for her.

They kissed, which threatened to become more than that until she playfully pushed him off and slid over the edge of the bed, her petite feet touching the cool wood floor. He noticed that - noticed everything about her in that moment - and fell in love with her all over again.

Primrose sat on the edge of the bed. She could see the look on Olberic’s face, and it was a look she was well familiar with: lust, and the thought of taking her away from all of this. Before, when she’d been an entertainer for hire, it had been nothing to simply turn her heart off and politely tell them to leave. But now that she was on her own - no one controlled her - she could love as she wanted. And she realized that love had entered her heart for this man.

She returned to his side at the bed, where he’d been pulling on his underclothes, and embraced him with all the strength she could muster, laying a big, plain kiss on his face. “I’m glad to have stayed. There’s nothing I would have wanted better.”

Olberic smiled and returned the kiss, though he looked crestfallen. “Thank you. I just wish that this wasn’t the end.”

“Oh?” she asked, and her hand strayed to his arm.

“We’ll split here, go on our separate ways. I have a journey to fulfill, and you - you’re still young. You’re wandering the world, exploring. You don’t need to stay with a man like myself, who would just put you in unnecessary danger.”

Primrose drooped for a moment. The thought had crossed her mind. Where could they go from here? She didn’t necessarily have somewhere to be, and he was right that she was just kind of wandering, but it was obvious that he led the kind of life that would put her in danger. But her heart wasn’t in it. She wouldn’t be cold again.

“No. If you want me to be with you, I want to be with you. I think - I think a travelling companion would be nice. If you’d take me.”

His eyes lit up at that, but his body stiffened. He was wrestling with his honor at that moment, determining what was and wasn’t appropriate to say and do at this time. And she wouldn’t let him make the wrong mistake. So she did what she always did when she wanted to get something she wanted - she made love to him again.

***

By the next time they came up for air, everything had been settled. They would journey together; they would fight together, and they would love together. The knight would keep her protected, and the lady would entertain and provide for them, and they would be a couple. Things had changed, and the two lonely souls were now one with each other and themselves.


End file.
